The Kingdoms
by HeyThereItsMe
Summary: Tucked away in the folds of time are four kingdoms.  However, these are no ordinary kingdoms: they are the birthplace of the story to end all stories. Dozens of people are racing for their own happily ever afters. But all is not as it seems, as two certain witches have a very different ending in mind...
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **I will be mixing characters and situations from many different stories from many different cultures. As stories often go, I've taken my own spin on some and added names, personalities and the like. If you're confused by one, ask in a review, and I'll explain. Happy reading!

**Prologue: Stories**

I want you to think back for a moment.

It's cold outside, but you're warm by the fire. You look to your mother, your caregiver, and you make a simple request. "Tell me a story."

She'll take a seat beside you and run a loving hand through your hair, before she whispers the fateful words, "Once upon a time..."

Your imagination is sparked and ignites, creating vast lands of princesses and witches, godmothers and demons, the dragon and the dragon-slayer.

I am about to tell you a story. A story of wishes, a story of magic, a story of betrayal, a story of love, and a story of stories.

This is the story to end all stories, and the story to begin all stories.

* * *

><p>Once upon a time, deep in a thickly wooded nation, tucked away in the folds of time, there were four kingdoms.<p>

The northernmost kingdom of Tanuri is the largest, most prosperous of the four. The strict King Cedric is effective, and the mysterious, but gentle, Queen Rapunzel knows what is best for the people.

On the other side, the southern kingdom of Seregon is finally experiencing a period of peace and prosperity under Queen Snow the Gentle and King Ferdinand the Strong. The people are experiencing a golden age, of art and music.

The eastern kingdom of Saralone is struggling. The King, the appropriately-titled Adam the Foolish, has made more than one mistake, and his wife, Queen Isleen the Tender, is only effective at hosting balls. However, the people under these monarchs have little to complain of (though they always find something).

The final, western kingdom, the kingdom of Linia, under the widowed "Servant Queen" Cinderella, is the smallest. The Queen is not seen much since the loss of her husband, but like the others, the citizens are quite content nonetheless.

Despite occasional war and conflicts, these four kingdoms lived together in harmony. They were connected by a thick wood, in which witches and wishes resided.

Of course, there can never be one without the other. Let me start at the beginning...


	2. Beastly

**Chapter I: Beastly**

In Seregone, under Queen Snow the Gentle and King Ferdinand the Strong, a boy was making a rather foolish choice.

However, in order to fully understand why he made this foolish choice, one must know what was happening in the heavens.

Ascending into the heavens was a short, man-like demon. After being constantly spurned by, and envious of, humanity, he wished to trick them. He constructed a mirror, one that would never reflect the good in someone, but rather the wicked and ugly.

Content with this mirror, he climbed up, into the skies, hoping to view all of humanity through this lens.

The higher and higher he climbed, the more difficult it became to maintain his grasp on the mirror. It was growing red-hot in his fingers.

Just inches away from his goal, the demon dropped it. It shattered into thousands of pieces, each smaller than a grain of sand, and scattered into the four kingdoms.

Now, back to the boy.

The snow was falling lightly in the thick forests that connected and surrounded the kingdoms. He wandered through the woods, tipping his head back to catch snowflakes on his tongue. Unknowingly, some of the mirror dust fell into his eyes.

The boy, who was Prince Christopher, the only surviving son of Queen Cinderella, was running through the woods, falling into piles of snow and throwing snowballs at trees. He had rarely been given opportunity to play so freely, and he planned to use it to his full advantage.

Deep in the woods, and quite lost, Christopher brushed snowflakes from his brown hair and looked at his surroundings. The castle was probably getting a little worried about his absence; it was about time to start heading back.

He managed to follow his footsteps through the snow for some time, but there came a point where his footsteps were faded by the newly fallen snow, and the footsteps of others led away in different paths.

He was beginning to get cold, and more than a little wet. He kept walking in one direction, hoping to hit the edge of the forest eventually.

There was a point where he stopped.

"I've seen that tree before," he said to himself, pointing at the tree. "I must be going in circles..."

He set out in the exact opposite direction, now completely disoriented. He tried counting his paces, but he lost track at about seventy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of gray stone. He spun to look at it.

There was a building, just beyond the trees. Overjoyed, he stumbled through the forest.

_Just a place to spend the night, _he told himself. _Once the snow passes, I'll be able to find my way home. _

He clamored up the steps, slipping on the ice, and knocked on the large wooden door.

The more he looked at the building, the more he thought it looked like a castle. It wasn't like the grand marble castle of his parents, or the dark stone castles of the other kingdoms, but it seemed to be a castle nonetheless. Stained glass windows adorned the towers, lovely statuettes collected snow, and the wooden door seemed to reach up further than any door should.

A woman came to the door, dressed all in white. She was quite beautiful of face but cold of heart, but as she looked down at the lost prince her eyes filled with sympathy.

"You poor thing," she said. "You look lost. Come inside, I'll build a fire."

However, Prince Christopher didn't wish to do any such thing. The mirror affected his vision- he saw this woman for what she truly was, a vile, vengeful sorceress.

He backed up, stumbling back down the steps.

"I won't hurt you," she promised, looking slightly alarmed. "I am quite kind to travelers. Please, I'll make you something warm to drink."

He continued to back up, almost falling into a snow bank. His eyes were transfixed on her- her ugly, twisted features, her body and mannerisms that reflected every ugly aspect about her.

"Why are you frightened of me?" she asked, taking a few steps outside into the snow. "Come inside, please, I'll give you a coat and a place to rest until the storm passes."

His back was up against a tree. Snow was falling more furiously now, swirling around the two as she took long strides up to him. The wind howled, carrying away her words as she spoke.

"I know you," she said. He could not hear her over the wind, and fear had frozen him in place as she inspected him. "You are the Prince. The son of those two-"

She took several furious steps backwards. "Of course you wouldn't stay here! You spoiled, vile, vain child! Any offspring of those two would be spoiled, of course."

Her eyes went wide. "And now they have delivered you to me. The fools. I swore for revenge on them, and I almost forgot. But no, no, now I shall have the final hand. I will show them what vanity does to a person. I will show them... I will show them what it does to a person."

Christopher's world exploded in pain. He fell over into the snow, shouting, writhing, confused.

"I gave your mother everything she wanted," the sorceress said, watching passively as the prince transformed. "I gave her shoes and a dress. I gave her all the _material _things. But even I cannot fix ugliness of the heart. I returned to her, a short nine years later, and she turned me away. She couldn't be bothered to help me, the one who gave her _everything _she ever wanted!" She tipped his chin up with her pointed shoe, so he was looking at her. "Until you get what she had, you will never be human again. Fall in love, without any of what I gave your mother- beauty, or grace. Then, maybe, there will be mercy." She let his head fall slack into the snow.

Christopher was unconscious at this point.

He would later wake to find the castle had been abandoned. He adopted it as his home, resigned to a life of loneliness.

After all, who could love a beast?

In the Kingdom of Lenia, a lanky, teenage boy was making a similarly foolish decision.

"Kai, don't leave, please!" A young girl in a red cape ran barefoot out into the snow.

The boy didn't listen to her. He just straightened his coat and adjusted his grip on his bag.

"Kai! Come on!" She stumbled through the snow to catch up to him.

He looked at her evenly. He couldn't see her as his childhood friend, as his playmate, or how she truly was. He could only see her selfishness, her impulsiveness, all the negative and ugly qualities reflected in her.

"I can't," he said, pulling away from her grip on his arm. "I have to be away... I can't be here any longer..."

"Kai!" Tears stung her icy cheeks as he took a few steps into the blizzard. "Please, don't do this!"

"I have to."

With that, he disappeared into the woods, his figure, blurred by the snow and obscured by the trees, growing smaller by the second.

Gerda sniffled, and found herself running to her room, crying. He had been so distant, the last few days, and she didn't know why. Now, he wanted to distance himself from her forever.

_Forever. _The word echoed in her mind with a haunting reality. She wrapped the red cloak around herself, relishing in its warmth and security. Her grandmother had given her this cloak, and as the story went, it was made by her grandmother's grandmother.

Once she had cried herself out, she stood and walked to the windowbox. It was their shared garden, the one that connected their two homes, their two bedroom windows.

She carefully brushed the snow away from the soil. There were roses underneath them, red ones, white ones, orange ones, pink ones, all the roses they could find they would plant.

Gerda shivered again, and reluctantly closed her window. "Kai... Kai, I miss you..."

Kai, similarly, missed Gerda.

However, he would never admit it.

He did not miss her the way she had become. She was repulsive, everyone was. He needed time away from them- he couldn't stand looking at them any longer, seeing their faults, their hidden wickedness. Things he was not meant to know.

He trudged through the forest, snow clinging to his hair and boots. The wind was howling as the makings of a blizzard picked up, but he didn't notice.

"Why... What are you doing here, sir?" A soft voice, the type of voice that made a melody of every sentence, traveled through the wind. A gentle hand touched his shoulder.

He brought his head out from his knees, not entirely remembering when he had decided to sit down. "I'm running away," he said, carefully not looking at her. She would be as wicked as the rest, he thought bitterly.

"Do you know where you're running to?"

"No," he admitted, still only looking at her feet. _It's a wonder, her feet are dry, even in those thin slippers. _

"Come with me. I am headed to my sister's house, here, in the woods. We have a warm fire and a soft bed to sleep in."

He shook his head, sending a spray of snowflakes into his face. "I must be alone. I can't stand... I can't stand them... Us..."

"It's a large house," the woman promised, offering a hand to help Kai up. "You won't ever have to look at my sister or I. We won't bother you."

The idea was attractive, far more attractive than the idea of freezing to death in the snowstorm. He took her hand and looked up into her eyes.

The snowflakes danced around her face, obscuring his vision of her. In fact, he couldn't remark on her beauty, or ugliness, or any feature about her.

"This way," she said, leading him through the woods. "Be careful down that path, there are rumors of a vicious beast nearby."


	3. Transformations

**Chapter II: Transformation**

Prince Jonathan was frightened.

He would, of course, never admit to such. He had a reputation to uphold.

However, that didn't change the fact. His heart was lead, his stomach stone, and as the snow fell harder and faster, he grew more and more aware of the fact that he was lost.

He knew his father would be worried about him by now. He _always _worried. His mother almost never did, and Jonathan knew this was not typical of mothers. He also knew that his mother was not the most typical of mothers: the story of Queen Rapunzel the Grand circulated the kingdoms more than any other.

"Father will find me," he told himself sternly, still racing through the blurred trees. "He will send out his men into the forest and find me."

With every now-weary step he took, further and further into the growing banks of snow, he thought of all the possibilities.

"Should I die..." he mused aloud to himself, "I suspect Peter will be most upset. Then my mother, of course, and my father... Then Nanny, and that servant girl who mother says is fond of me..."

Memories flitted back to him. He and his twin brother Peter running through these same forests, his father teaching him to use a bow and arrow to hunt, his mother insisting she cut his hair herself, his Nanny reading him fantastic stories of the heroes of the kingdoms, and that little servant girl's giggle that he had often found so annoying. They all came to him at once, in a single barrage of thoughts, voices blending and images blurring.

"Of course, I shall not die. Father has many men... They will come find me..."

The weariness of walking was beginning to set in. His muscles ached, his lungs stung from the cold air, and he was just now beginning to question why he had ever ventured into the forest in the first place.

"Father will find me... Maybe I will help if I stay in one place... Yes... I'll just... Sit down here..."

A dainty woman, in several thick coats, stumbled across the prince.

He was curled up, asleep or unconscious, covered in a small layer of snow.

The woman, whose name was Izabel, took a close look at him. He was nice-looking. He had a very boyish face, though looked a bit more severe with the short bronze hair.

She realized she couldn't just leave him here to freeze. With much effort, she managed to pick him up and was in the process of dragging him to her home to warm him up a bit when she heard voices.

Panicked, she glanced around in the trees, but she seemed to be alone with the trees and the boy. She nonetheless traveled a bit quicker until she reached her home.

Her home was a castle, though she would never call it such. She had simply stumbled across it, and adopted it as her own.

She dragged the boy up the steps and through the door, onto a plush armchair. Exhausted, she rushed to get a fire in the fireplace.

There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" the woman called, not bothering to look.

"Only me."

"Oh. Come on in."

The visitor walked in, brushing snowflakes out of her hair. She ushered in a younger boy behind her.

"Come on and take a seat," Izabel invited. "I was just about to start a fire."

"I don't need a seat," the second woman said. "I am just looking for a place to stay."

Izabel sighed wearily, though masked it by blowing on the fire to get it to catch. "Of course, sister, you're always welcome here. Your visitor, too."

"Thank you."

"Would either of you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you. I think I'll just show Kai here to his room. Thank you."

Izabel nodded, noting how the boy- Kai- kept his eyes trained on the ground. She sighed again.

Her eyes turned to the boy in the armchair. He was handsome- snowflakes still clung to his curly bronze hair, his skin was soft and pale, and he looked rather peaceful as he slept.

Izabel, blushing and unable to stop herself, kissed him on the cheek. "I hope you wake up soon," she told him, remembering the stories of Queen Snow. A kiss was enough to make her wake up, why not this boy?

He stirred a little bit, not waking up. The snow clinging to him was beginning to melt by the fire.

"You shouldn't have brought him."

Izabel whipped around, facing her sister. "I'm the judge of my own home, visitors and all."

"I just don't think it's wise."

"What about that boy you brought? You're being hypocritical."

"I have my own reasons for him. I'm not attracted to him in any way-"

"I couldn't just leave him in the snow!"

"You could just make him something with fur."

"I'm not like you. I like humans... Well, human."

"A bear would be nice," she continued, ignoring the previous remark. "Fur, ferociousness, protective."

"I'd like to leave him as he is. Why didn't you turn that boy into something?"

"Because, Izabel, there's something I feel he can do. Something important."

"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

"You know me too well, sister."

Izabel sighed. "Jez, I don't know why I keep letting you do this to me. You stay in my house, you keep secrets from me..."

"Because I'm your little sister, Iz," Jezebel said. "And-"

"Yes, yes, all this about our mother, I know. I'm going to get something hot for him to drink when he wakes up. I'll be right back."

Izabel stalked off down a hallway, leaving Jezebel alone with the young prince.

"A bear... You would make a lovely bear," she told the sleeping boy. "Yes... I promised Kai no one else would be here. And after all, I can't have you causing trouble for Iz."

Jezebel's eyes sparked with a special kind of malice. This malice considered it might be doing the wrong thing, but only from a certain point of view. This malice was the most dangerous of all maliciousness, and it was the one the sorceress specialized in.

Izabel returned to where she had left the prince and her sister. The teapot fell to the ground, shattering at her feet.

Jezebel was nowhere to be found. The boy was not either, but the path he had taken to leave was evident.

A trail of wet, wide paw prints led straight to the now-open door.

* * *

><p>In the eastern kingdom of Saralone lived Charles, a widowed miller.<p>

Many men were seated at a bar, a place Charles had frequented, and a place home to many foolish things. They were each making claims about their daughters, getting more and more ridiculous with each sip.

"We- well _my _daughter," a baker slurred, "she's the best. She bakes so fast we don't have time to sell one loaf before there's another out of the oven!"

"That's nothin'," a tailor was saying. "My daughter, she can clothe a fam'ly of ten in that 'mount of time!"

The miller was laughing by this point. "What's your problem?" the baker asked him. "Your daughter no good at millin'?"

"My daughter... _My _daughter is so talented, she can turn plain straw into pure gold!"

This got the rest of the tavern's attention very quickly.

"How does she do it?"

"How much gold do you have?"

"How long does it take?"

The miller stood on a wooden table and explained, in vivid detail, exactly how his lovely daughter could spin straw into gold.

The tavern closed for the night, and the men left for their homes, but none without some tale to tell of a miller, and his gold-spinning daughter.

_I wish you all a belated Merry Christmas and an early Happy New Year. (: _


	4. Family Affairs

**Author's Note: **_Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been out of town. I hope you all had a wonderful New Year's celebration, and wish you nothing but the best for 2012. _

**Chapter III: Family Affairs**

"Please, Your Majesty, there is someone calling. A nobleman from Tanuri is delivering a message."

"Send him away."

"Your Majesty, he says the message is urgent, it won't take but a moment."

"If I must tell you again, Albert, both you and the Tanurian gentleman will be permanently dismissed."

Queen Cinderella sat down. She was tired, distraught, and wasn't in any condition to visit a nobleman. Her brown hair fell out of its braid, and she pushed it out of her eyes.

"Yes, Your Majesty," her servant said, backing out of the room.

The Queen let her head fall back and hit the back of the chair. She just wanted peace and quiet. Time to mourn her son. That was all she requested- a single day of mourning. She had lost Theodore, and now Christopher, and it was just too much to bear sometimes.

There was a light knock on the door.

"Enter," she said, thinking it was her huntsman. Without looking, she asked, "Has there been any sign of Christopher in the woods?"

"Neither Christopher nor Jonathan," the man said. Cinderella turned around.

The King of Tanuri bowed. "Your Majesty."

"King Cedric," Cinderella said, getting up out of her chair and curtsying. "I didn't realize- I'm sorry, I just-"

"I completely understand," he said.

"Please, have a seat."

They sat across from each other. "So, Your Highness, what can I do for you?" Cinderella asked.

"Please, call me by my name, Cedric," he said. "I came to inquire about your son Christopher."

"Christopher has been missing for the last three days now," Cinderella said.

"My oldest Jonathan has been as well." Cedric looked at Cinderella. He had big hazel eyes, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was studying her, looking for some hint of something. She shifted in her seat but didn't lose her composure as he continued to speak. "I came here inquiring if you knew anything about the situation."

"Not a thing," she said. "That's strange. Do you know if anyone else has gone missing?"

The King shook his head. "Not that I'm aware. It's troubling. I've sent out plenty of men to search the woods for him, but there haven't been any reports of anybody. It's all very strange."

"I agree-"

Somebody stumbled in the door. "Your Majesty, I-" He stopped when he saw that King Cedric was also in the room. "My apologies, I shall-"

"No, come in, huntsman. What do you have to say? Has there been any sign of Christopher?"

He shook his head. Snow still clung to parts of his boots and jacket, and bits of it were falling onto the tile floor. "None, ma'am. But one of my men tells me there's something in the forest. Something dangerous."

"Like what?"

"He said he didn't get a very good look at it. But he could tell it was big. Ferocious. It was out hunting."

Cinderella's brow furrowed. "Where was this?"

"In the forest, by the old castles."

The forest connected the four kingdoms, often being the only crossroads between them. There had once been other kingdoms there, but they had long ago been taken over or lost in a war. Only small castles remained of what once was.

"Issue a warning. I don't want anybody else entering that forest until we know what that thing is and how to stop it."

"Yes, ma'am. And-"

"Also, send a messenger to Saragone and Serelone. Alert them as well."

"Yes, ma'am. And-"

"What is it, huntsman?"

"I was wondering if you would like me to send out a squad of people to find the beast. Kill it. Y-your Majesty," he added hastily, seeing Cinderella's grave look.

It took her a moment to find a suitable reply. "No. Not in this weather, it wouldn't be practical. Wait until the snow passes." He nodded. "That's all, then. Go on."

"R-right. Yes, Madam. Your Majesty." The huntsman quickly bowed and left.

Cinderella turned to Cedric. They had both risen at some point during the conversation, and were standing quite close to one another.

"If this is what has taken Jonathan and Christopher..." he began, uncertainly.

"Then they are beyond help. We must save what lives we can."

He nodded. "You are a very practical woman. A good ruler."

She looked away. There was a small window in the far wall, giving them a view of the snowy courtyard. Her green eyes remained trained on that courtyard.

He placed a hand on her arm. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

The Queen looked back at him. He was studying her again, looking for a reaction.

"I'm sorry for yours too."

It had been a very long time since Cinderella was this close to another person. Her skin tingled where he touched her, she could feel the tenseness in his muscles, and she realized she was actively trying not to mirror his motion of comfort.

His hazel eyes met hers.

He took a step back from her. "I should go back to Tanuri. I need to issue a warning in my own land as well."

"Of course," Cinderella said. "I'll sh-"

"No need to show me out," he interrupted. "Your staff is very helpful." He bowed, and she curtsied in response. "Good evening, Queen Cinderella."

"Good evening."

She was left alone with her thoughts once more.

* * *

><p>Very few knew foolishness like King Adam the Foolish. His title among the peasantry had been 'Prince Adam the Vain,' but a memorable day involving a parade and two Linian merchants had solved that very quickly.<p>

Some of his more loyal subjects called him King Adam the Brave, as it took much courage to continue the parade wearing nothing but a hastily-obtained blanket.

Nonetheless. He walked through the castle, making preparations. He was to visit the King and Queen of Seregon that evening.

He walked past a staircase and heard yelling. He paused, then climbed the steps.

"Mom! Make him stop lying to me!"

"I'm not lying! Diana told me!"

"Diana the servant girl? And you believe her?"

"What's the problem here?" King Adam asked. His two children sat in the music room arguing, and his wife Isleen sitting on a piano bench watching them wearily.

"James keeps trying to tell me there's a girl in town who can spin straw into gold," his youngest Joanna said.

"Ask Diana! She knows all about it!" James insisted.

"You're lying! You're trying to trick me!"

"I'm not! Have I ever lied to you?"

"Yes! You're a bad liar, too! Last summer you tried to convince me that animals could talk!"

"They can!"

"See? Mom, Dad, make him stop!"

"Joanna, that's enough," Isleen scolded.

"You need to get ready to leave. We go to Seregon in an hour."

The two shared one last look of contempt, then headed down the stairs.

"Well," Isleen said, standing up. "That was a memorable piano lesson."

Adam rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't let them bicker like that. It's no good for them."

"Nonsense. It's a part of childhood. Didn't you ever bicker with your siblings?"

"I rarely saw my sisters. Good thing, that, too. It kept me out of trouble." He offered his hand to help her down the stairs.

"They'll grow out of it eventually. Children often do."

"Hm." He helped her down the stairs and into the wide corridor. "They're hardly children anymore. James is nearly seventeen. It's about time he started settling down."

"Right now we have other things to worry about," she dismissed.

"What is it now?"

"Everyone is restless, Adam. There isn't enough food, or if there is, there isn't enough gold to buy it."

"Not enough?"

She sighed impatiently. "Yes, Adam, not enough. It was a bad harvest year. We're importing everything from Linia, and that costs quite a bit."

"Hm."

Her glare hardened. "Is that all you have to say?"

"I'm thinking about it!"

Isleen rolled her eyes. "Thinking doesn't do anything. We have to take action." She stopped in the hall. "I think sometimes I'm the only one who actually cares about the kingdom."

"We both care, but you're the one with the brains to do something with it." He kissed her on the cheek. "Which is why I married you."

She naturally pulled away from his touch, but eventually relaxed. "You married me because your parents were pushing you to marry somebody and I was the most convenient."

"Nonsense. I took one look at you and said, 'That's an intelligent woman. She'd make a good queen. And beautiful, too.'"

She scoffed. "Yes, I must have looked dazzling. Soaking wet, muddy, and covered in bruises."

"You were," he insisted.

Isleen the Tender earned her title not because of her tender personality, but because of her frailty. A famous incident with a pea and several dozen mattresses led to their marriage, and Adam would later wonder why his parents wanted him to marry a woman who bruised at a single touch, but he fell in love with her just the same.

She kept walking, and he followed. "You still are. Some things just don't change."

A little bit of a smile was playing on her pale pink lips. "And you're still impulsive, vain, foolish..."

"The man you fell in love with?"

"Yes." She was smiling widely, and the two shared a kiss.

Isleen giggled, like the lovesick girl she had been so long ago.

Someone walked through the hallways and paused when he saw the two. "Your Majesties," he said. "Princess Joanna is requesting your presence. Something to do with dresses and things."

Isleen smiled. "I'll be right there." She looked at Adam. "Keep thinking. It's not getting any warmer out there."

He nodded, and watched as she left.

Not enough gold...

But there was plenty of straw.

He stopped a servant who was walking past.

"There is a legend of a girl who can spin straw into gold, is there not?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," the servant said.

"Do you have any idea if it's true?"

"None at all, sir, but everywhere I go there's somebody talking about it."

"I want you to get to the bottom of this as soon as you can. I want that girl brought to the palace immediately."

"Yes, sir." The servant continued down the hallway quickly.

"Only one who cares? We'll see about that," King Adam said to himself happily.

* * *

><p>"Are the preparations ready?"<p>

"Yes, they are."

"Where are the girls?"

Queen Snow White turned around. They had been making trouble in the kitchen not long ago. "I don't know."

"Find them, they should be getting ready."

"They are ready, they have been for the last hour, they're just-"

"Mother!"

A red-haired girl burst into the kitchen. Her dress was already disheveled, her hair already coming out of it's pins.

"Rose, what have you done? Look at yourself, you've ruined all of Sarah's hard work, now she'll have to re-do it all."

"I know, mother, I'm sorry. Snowy and I were- never mind that. There's something at the gate."

"Something?"

"An animal, we think. It's big, but it's just sitting there, Snowy and I aren't sure what to do with it."

"I'll go look into it. You need to let Sarah fix your hair before King Adam's family arrives. Your sister, as well, if she looks anything like you do now."

Rose nodded. "All right." She scampered off.

"Wait- Rose? Where are your shoes?"

Rose looked down at her bare feet as if she was surprised. "I took them off. It's hard to walk in those, mother, so I took them off."

"Put them back on before you go find Sarah. She would have a fit."

"Yes, mother." She ran off.

The Queen sighed and looked at her husband.

"Do you want me to send someone to investigate the mystery at the gate?" he asked her, obviously amused by his daughter's worry.

"I told Rose I would do it, and I will. It's no problem."

King Ferdinand couldn't help but think that this was a very un-queen-like thing to do, but he allowed her to do it anyway. He walked off, finding something else to occupy himself.

Flurries of snow were beginning to fall again, and the darkness of night had settled very comfortably outside. Queen Snow White gripped the lantern, looking for the source of Rose's trouble.

Sure enough, there was something at the gate. It didn't have a human shape, but the Queen had a certain way with animals.

"Hello?" she called out. Her voice, even though she was not a young woman, still retained an innocent ring. "Is there something we can help you with?"

Snow wasn't surprised when the bear spoke to her. "Yes," he said. "Please, this is the only place for miles. It is beginning to snow again. I just want a place to stay the night- to warm myself by a fire and rest."

The Queen, who was rightly renowned for her compassion, immediately admitted the animal. In the light of her lantern, she could tell it was a bear, but it had something of a human quality about it.

Of course, she didn't think too much into that. She was too concerned with finding a place for him to sleep. And what Ferdinand would think about it.

If she was honest with herself, she would say she was more worried about the latter.

* * *

><p>King Adam's family arrived at the palace later that evening.<p>

When told the story of the bear, and how he became the girls' playmate that evening, Prince James only had one thing to say: "Told you so."

He was afraid that the bruise his sister gave his foot would never heal.


	5. Conversations

**AN:** _Sorry for the long wait, I've been busy. I hope to have Chapter 5 up by Monday, though. Hope you enjoy :)_

**Chapter IV: Conversations**

The bear became their friend.

Every night, he would come. He would talk to Rose and Snowy, tell them stories, make them laugh. The twins would tell similar stories, keeping their new friend company as late as they could.

Every morning, he left. He never said where he went, and nobody ever asked.

Princess Snow White II asked her sister and mother about it one evening.

It was twilight, and their bear friend wouldn't come until sundown. The Queen was starting a fire in the room where he would stay that night, and her twin daughters sat across from each other.

"Where _do _you think he goes every day?" Snowy asked, her concentration fully on a hat she was knitting. It was a little hat, a baby's hat, made of the nicest yarn in the kingdom. Snowy didn't know what she would use the hat for or give it to, but she figured it would have _some _use someday.

"I don't know," Rose said. "Maybe he's owned by somebody. Part of a circus."

"That's awful!" Snowy said. "Don't say things like that."

"Snowy, what kind of bear just wanders up to the palace in the middle of the night asking for a place to stay?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you," Snowy said.

"Girls, this isn't a subject for discussion," their mother said, standing up. The fire crackled in the fireplace. "His business is his alone."

Snowy continued her knitting without a word.

Snowy looked almost identical to the woman she was named for. Her ebony hair curled around her shoulders, longer than her mother had ever worn it. Her skin was pale as the snow outside, although during the summer it had a much healthier color. Her lips were thin and dark red; some would say they were red as blood. However, she did inherit some traits from her father: her nose, her curls, her blue eyes, her tendency to smirk instead of smile, her love of adventure novels.

Looking at the twins side-by-side, it would be impossible to tell that they were related. Rose was the opposite of her sister: her straight, bright-red hair fell down her back, her skin a slightly darker color, and her lips a rosy pink. They were different in personality, as well- Rose loved to break rules, run into the forest and not stop for hours and hours until she was too tired to go on, tell wildly exaggerated stories at dinner. She wasn't good at reading, in the same way her sister wasn't good at lying or running.

Despite all of this, they were the best of friends. They consistently played tricks on the servants around the palace, told each other stories and laughed at the other's jokes.

"Come on, girls. It's almost time for dinner." Queen Snow White held the door open for her two teenage daughters to scamper out. The woman sighed when she noticed they were both barefoot, again.

_They never learn, _she thought, shaking her head in amusement.

* * *

><p>Jonathan, the bear, was not in fact part of a circus. He would have much preferred a circus to his current conditions, though.<p>

He paced, his paws stinging from the snow. He brushed the icy flakes out of his coat and kept going.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

There was a castle right behind him, but it was as cold as the snow outside. He much preferred the castle of Queen Snow, the warmth and the food, the fire and the playing.

He especially liked Snow the Second. She was kind, and very funny if one got her to speak. Not to mention pretty.

Step. Step. Step. Step. The sun was setting. Then his job would be done and he would set out on his daily journey to Seregone.

The castle door squeaked behind him, and he turned around slowly, clumsily.

There was a boy, maybe a few years younger than Jonathan was, standing there, looking out at the snow.

The boy walked out, down the steps. He wasn't wearing any shoes, or any winter clothes ,but he didn't appear to be cold.

He looked at Jonathan. "You can speak, can't you?"

Jonathan found it hard to nod as a bear, so he said, "Yes."

He didn't like the voice that the bear gave him. It was rough and gravelly, and everything he said sounded like a growl.

The boy nodded, coming down to the bottom step and sitting down in the snow. "Good."

Jonathan approached the boy slowly. "Is there something you want to speak _about_?"

"Yes. Know. I'm not really sure." He kept his eyes trained on the snow-covered trees beyond them. "Talking to _anyone _right now would be a relief."

"You don't talk to the witches?" Jonathan felt stupid as soon as he said it.

"They talk to me," he said. "And then I look up at them, and I see their faces, and then I just can't say anything back. I just have to nod and keep working on it..."

"Working on what?" That was the question that had plagued Jonathan since he fell into servitude with the witches. He was supposed to protect the castle from _something, _they wouldn't tell him what, because there was _something,_ they wouldn't tell him what, inside.

"A puzzle. Nothing, really... I don't even know why. But sometimes, I think about leaving, going home, and once I even got far enough to pack my things in my bag... then I see the puzzle there, sitting on the table, and it just... This will sound funny, but it's like it _calls _to me. It _tells _me to solve it. And I can't say no."

"I completely understand," Jonathan agreed. It was that same sensation that called him back to this castle after he was transformed, and the same sensation that kept him back every morning at sunrise.

"And... I don't even know what I'm doing any more. I left behind everything- my parents, my friends... But in pursuit of what?"

Jonathan had no answer to his question.

"I guess I found solitude. But it's not as sweet as I had imagined..."

The last lights of twilight were draining away. Stars were appearing in the sky.

The boy seemed to have noticed this as well. "I should go inside before dinner is brought up," he said, sighing miserably. "I hope I'll be able to see you more often," he added, looking at the bear.

"I hope the same thing," Jonathan said, walking away from the steps. As the boy went inside to the witches, he began the trek through the snow and into Seregone.


	6. Impossibility

**AN**: _You're lucky, two chapters in two days. ;) _

**Chapter V: Impossibility**

Miranda's forehead was touching the floor.

She had never met royalty. She had seen royalty, from a distance. She had admired the Princess's lovely dresses, and when she was younger, liked to pretend that she was a princess.

But she had embraced the life of a miller's daughter. Simple. Predictable. She had a routine, she learned to be frugal with her money during hard times, and knew which luxuries she enjoyed during the plentiful.

Although she was inside the palace itself, she still couldn't believe that the King was sitting in front of her.

"Rise." His voice filled the room, which was likely larger than Miranda's whole home and decorated richly. It took her a moment to realize the command was meant for her and to get her forehead off the floor. She didn't know if that was the proper way to bow before royalty, but nobody had corrected her.

"The rumor is you have an exceptional talent," the King said. He spoke to her like they were having a casual conversation, which only served to make her more uncomfortable.

"O-oh, y-yes, Your Majesty." She had no idea why she was called, but one never argued with royalty.

"Fantastic. Take her to the room we've prepared for her."

Almost immediately, she was led down a series of long corridors and eventually a winding staircase.

When she finally reached the room, her eyes grew wide.

The room was filled with straw.

It was large, with nothing but a spinning wheel and a wooden bench. Aside from a path leading from the door to the opposite wall, everything else was filled to the ceiling with straw.

Miranda spun around to face the guards, but they had already shut the door. She tried the knob.

Locked.

In her home, her 'magical' ability to spin straw to gold was something of a joke. A funny story her father had told, and some overheard whispers in the market. She never could have imagined the King would take such a joke seriously...

She walked around the room, or as far as she could go without running into a wall of straw. No other doors. She looked for a window. There was one, but it was up high, small, and barred across.

One doesn't run from royalty, at least with the expectation of getting very far. But some people will do anything in desperation.

She jumped, knowing fully well that she would never reach the window. She dragged the old bench over the straw-covered floor and stood on it. She jumped once more, and her fingertips grazed the edge of the windowsill.

She tried again, and again, but couldn't reach.

Realizing the hopelessness of her situation, she sat on the ground and began to cry.

The door opened. Immediately she picked herself up, ready to make an escape, but it closed before she was even on her feet.

"You look awfully busy," Prince James commented.

Miranda didn't bow or give him any formalities. "I am," she told him shortly. Miserable, she sat down on the bench and picked loose pieces of straw off her skirt.

He came and sat on the ground across from her. He didn't say anything, but looked at her with such an amused expression, she couldn't help but get angry.

"Why are you here? What do you want? Wasn't it enough to take me away from my family, imprison me, and ask me to perform an impossible task? Is there no limit to the cruelty you can inflict on me?" Tears threatened again, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry again.

"No," he said, and she couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "There is no limit."

She turned her face away from him. "Leave me be."

"You aren't going to ask why I'm here?"

She couldn't help but glare at him. "I already did."

"Ah... My apologies. I'm here because I have a message from my father."

"I don't want to hear it."

"He says that you have until sunset to fill this room with gold."

"S-sunset?" She glanced out the tiny window again. It was still early morning, but there was absolutely no way she could spin straw to gold.

"Yes, sunset."

"What happens if I can't?"

The Prince shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't ask him. He's not in the best of moods at the moment."

Miranda rubbed the skin on the back of her neck, under her thick hair, briefly wondering what it would be like to be without a head. She figured she wouldn't need to imagine, as she would find out by sunset.

"Leave me be," she said, not wanting him to see her tears.

He nodded, standing and brushing straw off of himself. "Until sunset, Miss."

The door closed again. She listened to his footsteps up the stairs, then tried the knob again.

Still locked.

She broke down in tears again.

It had always been a flaw of hers. She was too emotional. Too fragile, too easily moved by the smallest of sadnesses. But she no longer cared. She would cry until she couldn't any longer.

"Hello? Help here!"

Sniffling, she turned around.

There was a small man hanging from the windowsill.

Miranda approached him as one might approach a wild animal.

"Excuse me? Help would be appreciated!"

"My apologies," she said, picking him up and setting him on the bench.

He brushed himself off and mumbled various insults, directed not at her but at humanity in general.

"Who are you?" she asked him.

"'Who are you?'" he mocked, mimicking her voice. "There's more to life than names, lady."

"All right. _What _are you?"

"Your savior, that's what. Listen to you, weeping and crying like a little baby. You don't know anything."

"Are you saying you can help me? Can you fill the room with gold?" Her hopes were rising by the second.

"Not for free," he said, a greedy glint in his eye.

"My necklace," she said immediately, reaching to undo the clasp. "Will that be payment enough?"

He inspected the necklace she handed to him. "It'll have to do," he said. "Move the bench over by the wheel. I've got some work to do."

She did as she was told, and watched him accomplish the impossible.


	7. Artifacts

_AN: Sorry for the long wait, guys. I was on vacation in Paris. _

_Now that I'm all brushed up on my European history, I can continue to butcher it in this story. Enjoy :) _

**Chapter VI: Artifacts**

King Cedric looked at the painting that hung in his bedroom.

It was a very good painting, by a very talented and well-known artist.

It was a typical portrait of a family. King Cedric stood, ten years younger than he was now but still old, one hand on his son's shoulder and one hand on his wife's.

He heard a wailing from the other room, and a rush of footsteps as half the staff in the castle rushed to see what the problem was.

He sighed. His wife.

Rapunzel looked odd in the portrait. Her hair was cut short, but the artist had paid careful attention to the curve of her face and her purple gown, so she could be viewed as nothing but a woman. A very odd woman.

It had taken them almost thirteen years before they could convince the queen to grow her hair past her ears. She kept it at a reasonable length now, but it was always pinned back.

If Rapunzel saw a maid with hair past her shoulders, she would have her fired.

It was very hard to keep servants in the castle.

In fact, it was almost impossible. Whatever servants were not fired often quit several weeks into the job. Though the queen had a very lovely facade, when she was in the castle hysterical fits were quite frequent.

Cedric sighed. His oldest son was dead. His wife was the same as she always had been- hysterical, unnerved, paranoid.

He was unhappy with his situation, but couldn't think of a way to remedy it.

* * *

><p>A similar painting hung in Queen Cinderella's drawing room.<p>

The Queen herself wore black, still mourning for her son. She was alone, as she had requested, but she felt the servants' presence outside the door. They wouldn't let her alone, afraid she would do something dramatic.

She looked at the painting. Theodore had commissioned it only months before his death.

She looked at the artist's signature and smiled. That artist had always been one of his favorites.

In the palace gardens, on a perfect spring day ten years ago, the Royal Family was portrayed. Christopher, no older than seven, sat on the grass, laughing at one of his father's hunting dogs, who had rolled over. The queen was laying on marble bench, resting her head on her husband's lap. The artist, feeling symbolic, had painted a brown slipper on her left foot, and her right was bare. Theodore was sitting on the bench as well, stroking her brown hair.

Cinderella turned. Across from the painting, there was a mirror.

That same chocolate hair was now dotted with strands of gray, with promises of more to come. She was dressed in a heavy black coat, wearing both her shoes. The grass outside was dead, covered in snow.

All of the figures in the painting are dead as well, she reflected.

She walked across the room and opened a chest. Inside, underneath the ugly red curtains that has been hidden years ago in there, was a priceless artifact of Linian history.

It was a glass slipper.

It had a twin. A glassmaker had replaced the broken one so she could wear them at her wedding, and the right slipper now sat as decoration in one of the parlors.

This was the real slipper, though. She had kept it through all the years.

Upon seeing it, she fell to her knees and started to cry.

_Filler chapter. Sorry. I wrote it on the plane. However, more plot-furthering chapters are to come soon! Promise! _


	8. Connection

_AN: Two chapters in one day. Consider it a make-up present after my month-long absence.  
>Many thanks to ambamber and all of your reviews. Your constant support keeps me going. :)<br>And to all of you who haven't been reviewing... I don't bite. Really. _

**Chapter VII: Connection**

There was a knock on the door.

Miranda stood up and looked to the spinning wheel in horror, but there was nobody there.

The door opened.

"Miss," Prince James greeted. He handed her a tray of food. "I thought you might be hungry."

She looked down at the tray, then back at the Prince. He was sitting in the straw, across from her.

"Oh... Thank you. That's very... thoughtful."

He nodded his acknowledgement, smiling. Miranda shifted uncomfortably under his stare, hardly touching her food.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, blushing a little bit.

"What? Oh... Nothing. I was just..." He trailed off, also turning a little red. Miranda suppressed a giggle. "I can't believe you actually did it," he said, turning his attention to the gold that now covered about a third of the floor. "I mean, I knew you could, but you looked so upset when you were put in here that... Well, I was worried you wouldn't."

Miranda smiled and looked at her shoes. "Yeah... Well... I guess I'm just... gifted."

"I'm sure you have other talents," James said. "It must be tiresome, people always asking you to show off for them... They probably overlook everything else."

She considered this for a moment. The only child of her father, she had been trained as an apprentice to him, to carry on the family business. Though she didn't exactly _dislike _the work, she didn't enjoy it much either. She often wondered what her life would have been like if she had been taught how to bake bread for a living, or sew clothes, or something like that.

"Yeah... I bet you understand that, too... I mean, all the prince-work must get in the way of doing something _really _fun."

He nodded thoughtfully, and they sat in silence for a moment, feeling an unspoken connection.

"You know, I don't think I ever caught your name."

"Miranda."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful person."

As if surprised he said that aloud, Prince James turned pink again. Miranda laughed.

"Thank you."

"Well... I... Um... I'll let you get to your lunch then. I'll see you soon, Miranda." He darted out of the room, leaving her smiling like an idiot.

"I thought you two would never be done," the little person complained, coming out from a bale of straw. He took his spot by the loom again. "If you kissed him, I would have thrown something at his head, the little..."

Miranda let him continue to mumble to himself as he worked. She was too busy nibbling on her lunch and thinking about the prince.

* * *

><p>"You said this was <em>DIAMOND!<em>"

The necklace clattered to the floor and slid until it hit the wall.

"Well how was I to tell?" he retorted, picking the gold chain up and twirling it around his arm lazily. "It looked like diamond."

Jez was nearly growling. "I told you to find me a diamond."

"Look, I'll try again tomorrow, okay? Calm down."

She moved as if to strike him, then stopped. "You're worse than that gingerbread man," she hissed under her breath. "I _knew _hiring you was a mistake."

He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, remembering the gingerbread man's fate as falcon food. "Consider it a blessing," he finally said. "If you _were _able to touch me, I'd be dead right now. Then you'd need to find somebody else to run your errands."

She rolled her eyes. "That's what Izabel is for. At least she wouldn't complain as much."

"But Izabel can't use magic," he pointed out.

"She can."

"Not as well as I can. Or you, for that matter."

Iz, who was standing on the other side of the door, bit her lip. Her hand was raised as if she was going to knock, but she hadn't moved it throughout the entire conversation.

Her eavesdropping was interrupted by a crash heard upstairs.

Iz sighed and walked away as her sister continued to shout at the little demon.

He's lucky, she thought, heading up the stairs to investigate the noise. Very few people get to see Jez furious, and even fewer are able to tell about it afterward.

It's all because of that stupid name thing.

Jez had explained the phenomenon to Iz before. With demons, the most important aspect of their power was their name. If one knew their name, they would be powerless.

Unfortunately, neither witch knew the name, and it was continually able to anger Jez without being touched.

Izabel knocked on Kai's door. "Is everything okay in there?"

There was a sigh on the other side. "Leave me alone."

"Answer my question, and I will."

He hesitated in his answer. "No. Nothing's okay."

"May I come in?"

"Do what you want."

Iz opened the door.

A glass decoration was sitting in shatters in the center of the room. Kai was sitting on the window seat, looking outside at the snow falling.

"You know," he said, as Iz looked in a closet for a broom, "you're nicer than your sister."

Iz froze for a second. "O-oh. Well... Um, thank you."

She hadn't been complimented in quite a while and didn't quite know how to react, so she kept looking for the broom.

"I'm sorry I broke the... whatever that was," he added, as she emerged from the closet with the tattered thing. It had withstood so many charms and been the butt end of so many hexes that Iz was surprised it was still in one piece, and not complaining about its condition.

She started to sweep up. He didn't look up at her, and she didn't look at him. "It's all right. These things happen every now and again." She paused, then added, "You're just lucky Jez was occupied. She doesn't seem to be in the best of moods right now."

"I can hear her shouting from here. She says she needs diamonds."

"Yes... She does."

"Would it be too much to ask you... why?"

For several seconds, there was only the sound of glass being swept into the dustpan. "It's her current pet project," Iz dismissed, not quite knowing enough about it herself to give a satisfactory answer. "She needs diamonds, and he's to get her diamonds."

"Why does he serve her? She doesn't seem to have any power over him."

Iz was silent for a moment as she tossed the last of the shards in the wastebasket.

"Was that too much information to ask for?"

"No... No, it's all right," she said. "I'm just not myself today. I'm sorry. Jez does hold power over that thing. This time of year, it can't usually come out of its underground home, but under Jez's protection it can. It's in her debt... She let it pursue its little project with the mirror, and it's letting her pursue her project with the diamonds. Does that make any sense?"

"Some." He sighed. "To be completely honest, I've stopped trying to make sense of these things."

"That might be for the best."

They sat in pensive silence for several seconds.

"I'm putting some tea on downstairs. Would you like some?"

"N... Yes, please. That would be nice."

"All right." Iz put the broom back in the closet and made her way down the spiraling staircase.

"Jez," she mumbled to herself as she began to boil the water, "you've gone too far this time."


	9. Diamonds

_AN: Sorry for another short chapter. I'm trying to pick the plot up a little bit.  
>The focus is going to shift from Miranda, Kai, and Johnathan to a new batch of characters. Don't worry, though, you'll see them again soon, I promise. :) <em>

**Chapter VIII: Diamonds**

"Hello again," Miranda said miserably, sitting down on another bale of straw. It was the third night of her imprisonment, and the room this time was three times as big as it had been last night.

"I can't say I've missed you," the little man said. "What do you have for me tonight?"

"You took all I have," she whispered, hanging her head in her hands. "My necklace, my ring... All I have left is my own body."

Not even the clothes on her back belonged to her anymore. Three days in a musty, stuffy prison cell, with no other company aside from the little man and the Prince, who visited occasionally, and she was suitably unhappy.

"Then give me a peace of that," the little thing answered impatiently.

"A piece of what? Myself? Do you want me to cut off a finger or something?" she snapped.

"No, no, that'll never do. Give me something bigger."

"Like what. My child?"

"That sounds like it would do."

Miranda pondered the offer for a second, rubbing the place on her finger where her ring should have been. Never really planning to marry or have children, she answered, "Sure. Anything to get out of here."

"Very good." He took his place by the loom again.

"Ah... Sir..." she said, still rubbing her finger.

"What is it now, you complaining thing?"

"Do... Do you ever think I could buy my ring back from you someday? It... It was all I had of my mother, and I… Well, it was very special to me."

"Do you think I could ever buy those precious hours of my time back from you someday?" he snapped, mimicking her voice. "No. Likewise, that ring is mine to do with as I please."

"Sorry for intruding," she said softly, watching him perform the impossible task. "What do you need it for, anyway? You seem to have all the wealth in the kingdom at your disposal, and yet..."

"I can't conjure diamonds out of thin air, now can I?" he said, not looking up from his work. "Gold, silver, sure, I can do that without a second thought. But _diamonds..._"

Miranda continued to rub the spot around her finger. "The necklace was fake," she admitted softly.

"Yes, yes, I know. But the ring was real. And that's all that matters to me."

She remained silent.

* * *

><p>"You understand this, don't you?"<p>

Kai didn't say a word.

"Well? Do you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I understand."

"Good." Jez turned her tone from harsh to gentle. "Look, Kai, I understand, it's hard to do, but you are the only one who can. It refuses to budge for me, and Iz is much too... Preoccupied to attempt it. And I don't trust that demon for a second. The sooner you can finish it, the better."

Kai kept his eyes trained on the puzzle in question. "Yes, ma'am."

"Very well. I'll leave you to your work. I'm waiting on this, you know. I have my diamonds, making this the final key."

The witch left. Kai laid his head on the table, defeated.

At this point, he was done with the witches' "hospitality." He just wanted to go home, to his mother, to Gerda, to Granny Red.

But he was trapped, until he could complete this puzzle. Which was to say, he felt trapped forever. The puzzle was near impossible.

* * *

><p>Three weeks later, Kai's predicament was much the same.<p>

Miranda's, however, was entirely different.

After staying a significant amount of time in the palace as an honored guest, Prince James offered her a diamond ring to replace the one she had lost.

She had no choice but to say yes, and the wedding plans began.

The Royal Wedding, and the sudden wealth the kingdom possessed as the palace quietly traded their stores of gold for more important things, together created a general air of prosperity.

The people of Saralone were happy


	10. Beauty

_AN: Many thanks to MySecretHeart101 for being my first non-ambamber reviewer! And of course, many many thanks to ambamber again for your constant reviews. All of them make my day. :)  
>We got some snow around where I live, which is really nice this late in the year. Anyway, back on-topic, I hope you enjoy the chapter!<br>_

**Chapter IX: Beauty**

"Good morning, father," a young woman sang, coming into the kitchen. She saw her father asleep, slumped over the wooden table, and prodded him awake.

"What?" he asked groggily. "Oh. Good morning, Bella."

Bella, a girl of great beauty and childlike grace, smiled at her father and began the morning preparations. Their family owned a bakery, and though the baker was very good at his trade, they got most of their business from Bella. The young men in town would come in to try and woo her over, and the old men would come to see if the rumors were true. According to the members of the local tavern, she could bake so fast, they didn't have time to sell one loaf before there was another in the oven.

"Why did you fall asleep here?" she asked, tying her hair back and flouring the countertop in preparation for a new batch of bread. "Are you worried about something?"

"Next week," he moaned, putting his head back down on the table. "The wedding's been moved to next week."

"The wedding? Prince James and Miranda's wedding?"

"That's the one."

"Next week! It's at least a three-day trip to the castle, and that's even taking the shortcut through the woods!"

"I'm aware."

"Well... We have to get this cake ready right away! Father, father, get up! We don't have any time to waste!"

Bella's father grumbled a little bit, but knew what she said was true. He got up on his feet and showed his daughter the plans for the wedding cake.

"Elizabeth? Michelle? I need your help!" Bella called out to her sisters.

The twin girls shuffled sleepily down the hall.

"What is it, Bella?"

"It's too early for baking."

"Father has two days to make this wedding cake, and you must help. We're not opening the shop today, we'll be too busy."

"How are you awake this early?" Elizabeth mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "It's hardly sunrise."

"It was sunrise an hour ago. Beth, please, see how much sugar we have left. No, that won't be enough for even half the frosting... See if you can get some at the market. Hannah usually gives us a discount price."

The kitchen set to work. The twins' annoyed complains were only accented by Bella's.

"Next week! When did they tell you this?"

"Last night," her father answered. "There was a letter."

"And they just _told _you? They didn't say anything more about it?"

"It was a very formal letter, Bella."

"That's _absurd_! That's unthinkable! Those spoiled, self-centered royals, they think they can just command anything and it'll be done! No regard to anyone but themselves! It's selfish, and stupid, and you shouldn't stand for it!"

Her father sighed. "You know, Bella, you're just like your mother."

Bella just continued with her work. "She wouldn't stand for this kind of thing either, and you know it."

"Bella, one doesn't argue with royalty. They have their own reasons-"

"Reasons? Like what? The roses the bride wanted didn't bloom in that month? They had to invite some duke from some other kingdom and try to make a good impression? Did it even cross their minds that it might be a little bit difficult to make a wedding cake in three days? Hm?"

She was stirring the batter furiously now. Her father put his hands on hers gently, a gesture telling her to slow down.

"If you overmix it, it will be too aerated and won't rise properly. Leave that as it is."

"I'm sorry. I'm just... angry."

"I know. But all we can do now is work our hardest. We'll get it done."

Bella nodded, and set the batter aside.

"Besides, Bella," Michelle chimed beside her, "the Royal Family is going to make us rich! We can have all the pretty dresses and necklaces we want."

Bella couldn't help but smile. "Of course we will, Michelle. All the jewelry we want."

The family continued to work. When they had nothing to do, waiting for something to bake or Elizabeth's return with a third bag of flour, they helped their father pack his things for the long journey.

Bella was interrupted in her preparation of the frosting by a banging at the front door of the bakery.

"Don't worry about it, father, I'll get it," she said, licking a stray bit of batter off her thumb and opening the door.

"Why, good morning Bella," the boy said, leaning on the doorframe.

Bella bit her lower lip, trying to keep herself from slamming the door in his face. "Good morning, Richard," she said, not inviting him in.

Richard was their regular customer, but not because he particularly enjoyed their bread. He instead enjoyed looking at Bella, bouncing marriage proposals around, and deluding himself in believing that Bella actually enjoyed his stuck-up, self-centered presence.

"I must say," he said, "you look rather lovely when you're covered in flour."

"You said that last week."

"Did I? Well it's no less true."

"Oh really?"

"Do you know," he said conversationally, "how you could look even more lovely?"

"I can think of a few ways."

He continued as if he hadn't even heard her. "Sitting by my fireplace, by my side, as we wait for another of your delectable breads to finish baking."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're going to try to seduce me, at least be a bit more creative about it. Is there a reason you came, or do I have permission to shut the door in your face?"

"Oh, you're feisty, aren't you?" he said, amused. She moved to slam the door, and he quickly backtracked. "I came to purchase some bread, actually, but you seem to be closed. Why?"

"It's none of your concern. We'll probably be open tomorrow, if only for a little while. Good day to you, Richard."

She shut the door and listened to his footsteps die off, before heading back to the kitchen. She needed to finish that frosting.

* * *

><p>It was the middle of the night.<p>

Tiny flurries of snow swirled around in the lamplight, catching themselves on her hair, melting as they touched her skin.

Gerda wrapped the red cloak tighter around her shoulders and continued down the path.

"Gerda?" She heard a voice behind her, and stopped. "What are you doing out here?"

Tears were threatening, but she took a deep breath and said, "I'm looking for him."

"Come inside. It's too cold out here tonight."

"But... I can't just leave him."

"I know. We won't. But for now, come inside. I have something warm for you to drink."

Gerda sighed, staring at the ground. "Yes, Granny."

The girl sat inside, sipping her hot milk, not meeting her grandmother's eyes.

"You were going to venture out into the woods," the older woman said.

It wasn't a question, but Gerda whispered, "Yes, I was."

"Alone, not telling me where you were going."

"I left a note."

Granny Red sighed. "Gigi... You aren't the impulsive type. Going out there alone, with no idea where you're going, that's just not like you."

"I need to find Kai, Granny. I... I just need to."

"I know you do, darling, but-"

"You don't understand," Gerda interrupted. "I _need _to find him. I feel like he's in trouble."

"You know, everyone says he drowned in the river," Granny said.

"I know."

"You also should know that I don't believe everyone I hear."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Granny said, wiping a tear that had stalled on Gerda's cheek, "that it's about time somebody went and looked for that boy."

"You're saying I can go?"

"I'm saying, in a few days, when you've packed a few things for your trip, you can go."

Gerda, overwhelmed with joy, stood up and hugged her grandmother. "I promise, Granny, I'll find Kai."


	11. Journey

**AN: **_Long wait for a short chapter. Sorry about that. I keep thinking, 'Hey, maybe I might be able to write today,' and my life is like, 'LOLno.' _

_I'm sorry if this doesn't make any sense. I'm a little bit brain-dead today. However, all my AP tests are over with, which is nice. :) Enjoy the chapter. _

**Chapter X: Journey**

"Are you ready, Papa?" Bella asked, checking to make sure he had everything he needed to leave.

"As ready as I can be, Bella, thanks to you," he laughed. "Maybe even a little bit more."

"All right." She wiped a little bit of four off his shirt. "Be safe."

"I will."

"Are you sure you have extra-"

"I'm sure, Bella, I'm sure."

"But what if-"

"Bella." Her father looked her in the eye. "You've gone over the checklist seven times. I think if I were missing something, I would know. Now, you be safe, take care of the twins, keep the bakery running. I'll be back in a week."

"Dad!" The twins came tearing out of the bakery. They had slept in, again, and almost missed the goodbye.

"We'll miss you!" Elizabeth said, hugging him.

"Come back soon, okay?" Michelle said, tugging on his sleeve.

"I will, I will. I promise." He gave both the girls a hug.

"Will you bring us back something from the Royal Palace?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Like a dress or a necklace or... or... or something!" Michelle and Elizabeth started to dance around, laughing, imagining they were princesses at a ball.

"I'll bring you what I can," he promised. "Now girls, be good to your sister. Bella... Is there something you want?"

Bella shrugged. "Just your safe return, Papa."

"But after all your work-"

"I don't want anything. I'm fine without fancy dresses and makeup and jewelry. Now get going, it's a long way to the palace and the woods are dangerous at night."

"Bella, I'm not leaving you without promising you something in return for all the work you've put into this. It's just not fair."

"I don't need any gifts," she said.

Her father stopped, then smiled. "You know, your mother used to say the same thing. She used to say, 'The only gift I even want is a dozen red roses on my wedding day.' So you know what I brought her?"

"A dozen red roses?"

"Exactly that."

"That's very sweet."

Bella's father sighed, reminiscent. "But," he said suddenly, as if remembering he still had a cake to deliver, "there's no time for nostalgia now. Be safe, you girls. I'll see you in a week."

* * *

><p>"Granny?"<p>

The old woman turned around. "My... Gerda... Look at yourself..."

Gerda turned. She looked no different than she ever had.

"You look so grown-up," Granny continued, getting up to adjust the red travelling cloak that hung on Gerda's shoulders. Gerda was leaner, taller than Granny had been when she was her age, and the cloak didn't quite fit.

"Granny," Gerda said, blushing. "You say that _every _day."

"But look at yourself! First I'm holding you, you could fit in one arm. Now... Look at yourself. Ready to go out into the world."

Gerda smiled a little bit, unsure of how to respond.

"But enough about the past," Granny said. "You have a boy to find."

The two made sure Gerda had enough essentials to last her several weeks in the forest.

"And you know, be safe in the woods. Watch out for wild animals-"

"And stay on the path, and don't talk to strangers," Gerda finished for her. "I know."

Granny smiled. "That's my girl. I expect to see you and Kai back here by the time those roses in the windowbox bloom, okay?"

"I will. I promise, Granny."


	12. North

**AN:** _Sorry for the long wait. For some reason, ffnet wasn't letting me log in. And then I was dissatisfied with this chapter and wound up rewriting it three or four times. _

_So, I hope you enjoy. :)_

**Chapter XI: North**

Gerda didn't know where to start. It was mid-afternoon, and she had been wandering the woods for hours, somehow under the impression she would simply stumble across Kai.

That wasn't going to happen, obviously. But she didn't even know where she might _start _to look.

Eventually, her wanderings took her to the river. She knew the rumor in town: Kai had fallen into this very river and drowned, some weeks ago.

Gerda approached the banks with caution. She was never one to believe in spirits, but eventually, she decided she had no other options.

"Where is Kai?"

"Who?"

She was so surprised that the River actually answered that she jumped back, scrambling across the loose dirt.

"K- Kai. Where is he?"

"I don't know. Sorry."

"Did he drown?"

The River was silent for a moment. "Yes, he did. I'm so sorry about that."

"Well you don't _sound _very sorry."

"Well, I didn't know him very well."

Gerda stepped up to the riverbank again, quietly taking off her cloak.

"I'll give you this in exchange for Kai."

She dangled the red fabric over the rushing water.

"What is it?"

"It's my most prized possession. It's all I have to give. I just... I need Kai back."

Again the River was silent. "I can't take that."

"Give me Kai!"

"I don't have him!"

"Then where is he?"

"North! He went north!"

Her spirits rising, Gerda tied the cloak around her shoulders again and ran off. At least now she had a place to start.

* * *

><p>Raoul released the breath he had been holding.<p>

Finally, that crazy girl had left. He climbed down from the branch that had been his hiding place and into the waist-deep water. It was icy and rushing fast, all snowmelt, but he didn't really mind.

He looked around to make sure the coast was clear before proceeding to the other bank and scrambling up. He needed to head home as soon as possible- if his father knew he was out by the river, he was dead.

"Hello there."

He whipped around. On the other bank, there stood a woman, elegantly dressed for winter despite the warm spring weather.

"H-hello," he responded, hoping she didn't recognize him. He needed to get out of here, get home before he was missed.

"Have you seen my sister anywhere around here? She seems to have wandered off.

"Was she wearing a red cloak, looking for a boy named Kay? Kai? Something like that..."

The woman froze. Raoul shivered, but he doubted his wet clothes had anything to do with it.

"That must have been her," the woman said carefully, in a way that made Raoul think she was being less than truthful. "Where did she go off to?"

"N-north," Raoul said, swallowing nervously. "I sent her north. I didn't know who she was talking about and she seemed a little... abnormal..."

"You sent her _north_?" The woman's tone had turned dark.

"Yes."

She advanced toward him, and even though a river separated them, Raoul still took steps backwards.

"Look," Raoul continued nervously, "I really should be off... My father would have my hide if I was out any longer."

He spun around, hoping to run, but something made him stop in his tracks. He was frozen in the spot, facing away from the mysterious woman.

"Do you know how _hard _I have to work to keep Kai at my castle?" she asked.

Unable to see her, he could just picture the wicked woman- floating across the water in that winter attire of hers, coming up right behind him...

She continued. "And now some little girl is going straight toward it, trying to get him out. You know all spells need an escape clause?"

Raoul swallowed.

"And Kai's clause is heading right toward him, right now. All. Because. Of. You."

He shivered, picturing her face next to his, leaning into his ear... She was too close to him, he needed to get away...

"I think," she said, "I might try something different with you."

Everything went black.

* * *

><p>Glass shattered around Iz's feet.<p>

"How _dare _you question me!" Jez shrieked. Iz only lowered her head and stared at the floor in reply.

Another glass. Shards splayed around Iz's bare feet, shimmering in the dim light of the candles.

"I am not some petty witch!" Jez continued, pacing around the room, her shoes crunching the glass into even smaller pieces. "I am _the _witch! The witch to end all witches! _I AM THE SNOW QUEEN!_"

Iz thought she would never have to deal with her sister's episodes of madness again after she found her own home. She should have expected that trouble would follow her.

"I am _immortal! _I have more power than all kingdoms in the world! _I WILL NOT LET MYSELF BE HUMILIATED!_"

Her voice echoed down the halls. The furniture trembled, but Iz remained completely still.

Without warning, Jez smacked her sister across the face. Iz had to bite her lip to keep from shouting.

"You," Jez said in a low, quiet voice, "will _not _question me again_. _Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." Jez spun around, the edges of her fur dress spewing glass in all directions. "And, Izabel?"

"Yes?"

"Clean this up."

Jez walked off before Iz could give her a response. The lone witch looked down, trying to find a safe path through the shards so she could get a broom.

Behind her, she heard footsteps. She stiffened, afraid Jez was back to shout at her again.

Instead, she heard a timid voice. "I thought you might need this."

She turned around, carefully avoiding the glass. Kai stood there, still unable to look at her face, holding out the ratted broom.

"Thanks," she said, slightly breathless, taking it from him.

"I heard her shouting," he said.

"She shouts often," Iz replied, sweeping the glass into a pile.

He moved to sit down on a side table, watching the edge of the broom drag the glass across the stone floor. "She's a bit... unusual," he said. She could tell he was choosing his words carefully, afraid of offending Iz.

"She's... Well, she is unusual." A beat passed; only the sound of the broom could be heard in the large room. "Everyone who dabbles in magic is. I try to avoid it as much as I can, and still..." She paused in her sweeping for an instant. It was just a moment, and if Kai hadn't been concentrating on it, he would have missed it.

Iz continued to talk. "When we were younger, Jez started to work in potions. She wasn't very good at them, better at charms and things, but there is one she managed to do successfully."

Kai wasn't sure what relevance this had to do with what she had said earlier, but he was interested nonetheless. "Which was...?"

"A potion for immortality."

Kai was shocked, but before he could react, Iz continued the story.

"She was excited. I was excited too- I didn't know any better. We got the grand idea into our heads, that we were going to live forever... Years passed and we knew it was working. We stayed the same, hadn't aged a day. As long as we kept taking the potion, we would live forever."

Kai kept listening, but she wasn't talking to him any longer. She was talking to herself, because for so long she'd had nobody else to talk to.

"Then I realized what it was doing to us. The magic. The potions. It was driving us into madness. I tried to stop. I tried to leave it all behind. But... Life is _addicting. _To stop taking the potions would be to stop living, in a very literal sense." She sighed. "I moved away from Jez. I tried to forget about it, forget about my fate, this endless life I was doomed to live. Then she found me again. And every time I look at her, I see how far the potions have driven her insane... And I fear that it's doing the same to me."


	13. Strangers

**AN:** _New chapter! Yay! _

_I think that, by my suddenly-rapid updates, I'm just apologizing in advance, because I will be out of town for pretty much the rest of summer. That, and, I like to write when I'm procrastinating on my summer school homework. _

**Chapter XII: Strangers**

Miranda plucked a berry off a bush and popped it in her mouth. Though the food in the castle was excellent, she missed the taste of a freshly-picked blueberry.

"Miranda!" James scolded, catching up to her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Relax," she said, picking another and handing it to him. "It's just a blueberry. Haven't you seen one before?"

Realizing that she wasn't about to go eating something poisonous, James sighed. "Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. Just not... recently."

Miranda laughed and continued walking through the forest. It was alive with the sights and sounds of springtime. The river was rushing, the birds fluttered from branch to branch, the sun was high in the sky... It was a lovely day.

"You're so paranoid, James," she said, spinning around once or twice in her dress. "Why is that?"

"You're only days away from becoming my wife," he said. He felt himself smiling, despite his vaguely irritated mood. "I'm not about to let you be taken away from me when I'm so close to having you forever."

She blushed a little bit. "You already _do._"

"It's not official until the wedding," he insisted.

Miranda plucked a leaf off a bush. "I'm more than a little nervous about that," she admitted, crushing the little green thing between her fingers. "I mean, I have no _experience, _and the whole thing feels so rushed..."

"We can push it back to its original date, if you're worried," James said.

"No... No, we can't do that," Miranda said. She looked over toward the guards, who were following at a distance. Miranda wasn't too fond of their constant presence, but there was nothing she could do. "Speaking of, come walk down by the river with me. There's-"

"Kai!"

A figure crashed through the bushes behind the couple. She was ratty, her dark curly hair standing up in knots. A bright-red cloak was wrapped around her waist- it must have been too hot around her shoulders.

"O-oh," the girl stammered, backing away. "I'm so so-sorry. Um, Your Majesties," she added, seeing the royal seal on one of the guards.

"Is there something we can help you with?" James asked, trying to be gentle with the obviously-frightened girl. "Are you lost?"

"N-no, I'm fine," she said. "I'm looking for someone, and... You look an awful lot like him. I'm so sorry. I won't bother you any more."

She turned to dart back through the bushes, but James stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "No, stay. We can help you look. You look like you could use a good night's rest. We can take you right back to the palace from here. Right, Miranda?"

Miranda smiled and nodded. "Of course we can. But first, James, can we talk by the river? Just the two of us? Last-minute wedding... plans," she said.

James was reluctant to leave the girl alone, but Miranda looked up at him so pleadingly that he couldn't say no. "Just for a moment."

Gerda watched as they walked, hand-in-hand. Their conversation blurred and then faded to nothingness, though she could still see them.

"Coast clear," she heard somebody next to her whisper.

Everything happened at once. People jumped from tree branches, out of bushes, everywhere. The guards tried to act, but the mysterious attackers knocked them unconscious before anything could happen.

Gerda watched all this wide-eyed. Another girl approached her.

"You're not with them, are you?" she inquired, getting close to Gerda's face.

Gerda rapidly shook her head no, and the robber girl smiled. "Then you're with us. Come on, Little Red, we'd better scram before the happy couple returns."

The robber girl grabbed Gerda's wrist and dragged her away into the bushes.

As the girl pushed Gerda up onto a horse, then hopped on herself, they could hear a shout from the Prince. However, it sounded less like a cry of surprise or anger, and more like a whoop of joy.

Gerda heard the robber girl chuckle in front of her. "I wonder what kind of 'wedding plans' they've been discussing."

* * *

><p>By the time the group of robbers stopped, the sun was setting. Gerda had tried to talk to the girl in front of her, but she either couldn't hear or was ignoring her.<p>

Gerda, however, was too tired to care. After five restless nights of sleep in the forest, miles away from home or civilization, she was exhausted.

Being taken to their 'camp,' really just a series of ragtag tents made from sticks, brought mixed feelings. Most of her mind, the tired part, readily accepted whatever was happening. Just the fact that she was talking with other people again put her at ease.

The other part, however, wasn't as peaceful.

_Why am I here what do they want with me who is this girl Granny said never talk to strangers they're not talking to me what do I do how do I escape..._

When they dismounted, the other five robbers didn't say a word to either of the girls. They all, silently, dispersed into the forest.

"Come on, Little Red," the robber girl said. It was the first she'd said to Gerda since their encounter with the Prince. "It's our turn to collect firewood."

Without a second glance, the girl walked off into some bushes, and, seeing no other choice, Gerda followed.

A million questions came to her mind as the girl picked up logs and branches.

The first to tumble past her lips was, "What's your name?"

_Not the best of questions, _Gerda thought, _but it's a start. _

The robber girl smiled. For the first time, Gerda could see her clearly- her skin was dark from spending so much time in the sun, but her blue eyes were nothing but bright.

"They call me Dahlia," the robber girl said. "What about you?"

"I'm... Gigi," Gerda said.

"Gigi. That's cute." Dahlia handed the empty-handed Gerda the wood she had collected. "I think I'll stick with Little Red, though, if you don't mind."

The nickname reminded her of Granny. Gerda shook the homesickness off. "Would you mind telling me why I'm here?"

Dahlia shrugged. "Better here than there, right?" She gave Gerda another armful of wood. The load was becoming too heavy to carry. "We saw you once or twice, wandering around the woods," she explained. "You looked a little lost. I thought maybe we could help."

"That's very... thoughtful of you," Gerda said carefully.

"That," Dahlia added, "and the fact that I was getting bored." Before Gerda could reply, Dahlia had her arms full of wood and started walking back to camp. "Now tell me, Little Red, what are _you _doing out in the woods, all by yourself like that?"

"I'm looking-"

"For someone, I know. That's what you told the Prince. But _who_? And why?" Dahlia looked sideways at Gerda, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Gerda paused for a moment, and, deciding there wasn't really any risk, told Dahlia the whole story. How she lived next to Kai for her entire life, how they grew up together. How he ran away last winter, and how she set out to follow him. She avoided the part about the River talking to her, because she wasn't sure Dahlia would believe her, but she did mention she was headed north.

Dahlia listened intently to every word. "North! Okay! We can start looking tomorrow-"

"We?" Gerda interrupted. She had planned to stay with Dahlia's group for a day or two, maybe, to rest, but she felt like she had to find Kai on her own.

"Yeah, of course, _we,_" Dahlia said. The rest of the group had returned and were now busy repairing their shelters or preparing food. They were talking among themselves, paying absolutely no attention to the two girls building a fire. "You think I'm going to let an inexperienced kid like you wander around in circles? Of course not. Besides," she added, lowering her voice. "I'm just about to leave these guys. They've been great and all, but I've always been more of a lone wolf. You know what I mean?"

"Um-"

"Of course you do. Hey, hand me some of those branches over there. Let's get this fire rolling."

Gerda and Dahlia ate dinner apart from the rest of the group. Gerda noticed that Dahlia was the only girl, and the two of them were the youngest there by far.

"We sort of have an agreement," Dahlia explained, her mouth full of rabbit meat. "As long as I pull my own weight- shelter and firewood and stuff- they let me tag along. I get a fair share of gold and security at night. But I think tomorrow you and I should split and start heading north to look for your boyfriend."

"Oh..." Gerda said. "Um... I don't know... I mean, that's kind of you to offer, but..."

Dahlia smiled. "How about this. If you can point north, I'll let you go by yourself."

Gerda paused, realizing she actually had no idea which direction north was. She pointed in front of her, and Dahlia laughed.

"So it's decided. First thing tomorrow morning, we're off."


	14. Feelings

_**AN: **I don't know how many of you are familiar with my writing style outside of this piece (probably none), but I tend to read comedies and write tragedies. Even though this is a more-or-less-lighthearted, K+ rated fairy tale, I have to include a darker subplot somewhere in there. On the bright side, though, I'm working out an outline for a sequel/spin-off, and the Cinderella subplot is essential to that. So, that's something to look forward to. :)  
><em>

_Anyway, enjoy. Here's hoping my subtext was subtle enough. _

**Chapter XIII: Feeling**

He hadn't come. Again.

Snowy tucked her knees against her chest. Of course he hadn't, she chided herself. It's warm outside again. He doesn't need a place to stay. Stop holding silly expectations.

Still...

She missed her bear companion. He was the only one who would let her sit and tell wild stories, play childish games, and complain about life in the palace without berating her about how "un-princess-like" she was being.

Princess Snow White II was not like her twin sister. She didn't _mind _being a "proper" princess. She just wasn't very good at it. She didn't have a knack for knowing the right thing to do or say.

"Well," she mumbled into her skirts, "it's hardly _my _fault."

"What isn't?"

Snowy jumped and looked down. Sure enough, it was Rose.

"How did you find me here?"

Rose climbed out of Snowy's bedroom window and onto the roof, beside her sister. "You're _always _here when you're worried about something. What are you worried about? The wedding?"

They were leaving first thing tomorrow morning to Saralone, where they were expected to be "proper" princesses and watch the wedding. Snowy wasn't really worried about that; she knew her mother would take care of most of the diplomatic nonsense. She would just be expected to sit there quietly and look pretty, something she was very good at.

"No," Snowy said. "Not the wedding."

"What is it, then? Some stable boy catch your eye?"

Snowy giggled at Rose's teasing. "No, not that either. I'm not really worried about anything, I'm just thinking..."

"...About that stable boy," Rose finished, causing both girls to laugh.

When they were through giggling, Rose sighed. "You know, I'm going to miss this," she said.

Snowy looked at her in alarm. "Miss what?"

"This. Being with you all the time."

"When are you ever _not _going to be with me?" Snowy shifted her gaze to the courtyard they were sitting above. "I mean, we might not always be tolerated on the roof like this, but we'll never be far from each other..."

"But what about when we're older? When we finally grow up? I'll probably be married off to be princess in another castle. And then what?"

"That's nonsense, Rosy." The dark-haired girl put an arm around her redheaded sister. "There's nobody who's going to force you to marry anyone. You can stay here with me for as long as you'd like."

"Not if I marry a prince. Then I'd move to his castle."

"You're not going to marry a prince if you're not in love with him."

Rose mumbled something into her skirts.

"What was that?"

"I said, that might be the problem."

"You're in love with a prince?"

"Hush!" Rose looked around, but none of the servants around seemed to have heard the outburst. "Not so loud."

"Who is it?" Snowy asked excitedly.

"I _might _be just a _little _bit enamored with someone who _may _be of royal heritage," Rose said. "And his name most certainly isn't anything resembling Peter."

"Peter," Snowy repeated. "Prince of Tanuri?"

"Maybe."

Snowy laughed. "When have you ever found time to fall in love with him? From what I hear, he stays indoors all day, not doing much of anything. Not exactly your type," she added.

"I know, I know. But remember last month, we were at one of Queen Isleen's balls- it might have been the engagement ball, I don't remember- and you were off dancing, and he and I were just standing there, and we started talking. Do you know he lost his twin brother? It's just awful! And we were talking about that, and about other things, and I think I might have sort of started to maybe like him a little bit. I haven't been able to get him out of my head. Oh, Snowy, it's the most terribly wonderful feeling in the world."

The words all came out in a rush, a single breath. Rose didn't realize what she'd said until after she said it.

"And," she added weakly, "I think he's very handsome."

"I have to agree with you," Snowy said without a second thought. "I mean, about the handsome part, not the love part."

"I wish I could describe this feeling," Rose said. "It's like a weight on my chest... Like something I _have _to do, or else... I don't know..." She sighed. "You know?"

Snowy thought about her earlier ponderings, what had brought her out to her favorite spot on the roof in the first place. "You know, Rosy, I think I know exactly what you're talking about."

* * *

><p>"You have an awful habit of coming uninvited," Queen Cinderella said. Her words had an uncharacteristic bite to them. She was <em>not <em>in the mood to be trifled with today.

"I was passing by on my way to Saralone. I thought I would say hello. If you want me to leave, I will."

Cinderella sighed. "I don't mean to sound... undiplomatic," she began, as politely as she could. "But unless there is something of pressing importance that you can't wait to tell me tomorrow when we see each other at the wedding, you are not welcome here."

He put a hand on her shoulder, and, despite every instinct, she didn't pull away.

"Your Majesty," he said. "I respectfully ask that you accompany me on a walk. Something fun, for a change."

She knew what he was doing, and was completely powerless to stop it. He was trying to disarm her, catch her off-guard. It was working.

"If you don't leave immediately, I will have you forcibly removed. You are an unwelcome guest here," she said in the iciest tone she could manage. His hand was still on her shoulder, though, which significantly lessened the effect.

For a moment, he was silent. She could feel his eyes on her, still studying her. "Today," he said finally. "I know it's important to you."

She was silent.

"He would have been eighteen today."

She found the strength to pull away from him.

Since her husband died, Christopher had been king. However, the ruling of a country was a bit much for a nine-year-old, so Cinderella had ruled in his place. It was decided that he would be given his rightful title as king when he was eighteen.

Now she was the only one left.

"Please," she said breathlessly. She was afraid of Cedric. She was afraid of the way he made her feel, the way he might make her act. This feeling felt like a betrayal of Theodore, of Christopher. "Leave me be."

"Humor me, Your Majesty," he said, taking her by the hand. "Or better yet, let me humor you."

* * *

><p>Though the sun was setting, Cinderella was not cold.<p>

She didn't know how a walk had escalated into this, but somehow it had, and now she found herself laying on the grass, feeling completely and utterly content for the first time in months, maybe years. Heat radiated from his body beside her, and no sounds could be heard except their breathing and the occasional bird. It was peaceful, picture-perfect in a way the queen had only been able to dream about.

He had kissed her. It had been so long since she had felt a kiss on bare skin, since she had been told that somebody loved her and then shown that the statement was true.

"Do you know," Cedric said, turning to face her, "why I married who I did?"

Cinderella paused. She didn't like to be reminded that there was another woman, one they both were betraying. "No," she said softly. "Do I want to know?"

"I didn't marry her because I loved her," he said. "I suppose I'll spare you the details of our courtship, if you could call it that. But I want you to know that I never loved her. In fact, since the moment I met you, I knew I never could love her."

He was lying. Cedric lied often, mostly to himself. However, like many compulsive liars, he was believed.

Cinderella smiled, letting herself be happy for just one more moment.

Cedric leaned into her, making her heart race, and kissed her. "I've only ever loved you, my queen."

This made her pause. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

She pushed him off of her. She needed to think, and she couldn't do that when she was intoxicated by his touch. "I don't know how you feel about your wife," she said. "I can't ever be certain how you feel about me, no matter how much you want to... show me. I may be a queen, but I will never be _yours_."

"Ella-"

"Don't call me that. That's not my name." She shook her head. The cooling air was clearing her mind, and she realized that what she had done, what she was doing, was wrong. "Go. Leave the castle, leave the kingdom. If you're not gone by tomorrow morning I'll have you banned from Linia."

"But-"

"Please. Leave me." They were both sitting up now, the heart-racing rush of what had just happened over. "I'm sorry."

Cedric rose, straightened out his shirt (which he was now wearing backwards, but they both knew nobody would dare question him about), and left with the shreds of dignity he still had intact.

Cinderella sat under that tree, under the setting sun, straightened out her skirts, and quietly left for her room. She had a wedding to attend tomorrow.


	15. Wedding

**AN:** _Hm... Short, breather chapter. I'm thinking we're approaching the halfway point, and the plot is going to pick up from here. _

_To Symbolist: Thank you so much for the lovely review! 3 You seriously made my week and inspired much of this chapter. I'm glad you're enjoying the story! _

_Anyway. Enjoy the chapter! We're finally going to witness James and Miranda's wedding~! _

**Chapter XIV: Wedding**

The humble baker had only been to one wedding, and that was his own: a hasty, but in the end rather pretty, shotgun affair, with no more than flowers and borrowed dresses and their neighbors as guests.

In comparison to that, this event was hardly a wedding at all.

Despite apparently being very rushed (if the rapid-fire complaints he had overheard when working with the castle servants were any indication), it seemed every small detail had been put together with such precision that it was impossible not to be completely awestruck at the final product.

The isle was covered in white and pink rose petals, nobles from the four kingdoms and beyond stood in designated areas decorated with gold, crystals from the chandeliers glittered and shook as the sound of choirs and orchestras rang out in the high ceiling. Miranda's dress glittered in the afternoon light, studded with gems that he couldn't even think of naming.

The ceremony was long and peppered with language that the baker didn't quite understand, but it was made somewhat more bearable by the chefs' whispered commentary throughout the entire thing.

"...oh, poor thing, she's so pale, I'd be surprised if she made it through the vows without passing out..."

"Well if she does, it's His Majesty's own fault... Gold or no gold, he should know better than to marry some illiterate peasant girl..."

"I'll go blind if I look at that dress one second longer..."

"I wonder how heavy it is."

"I wonder how much it's _worth._"

"Arthur! Hush!"

"What? I mean, it doesn't matter how much gold that girl stole-"

"She did not _steal_-"

"-we're still about to go bankrupt. And they decide to go spend all the money on some fancy dress."

The baker was just a spectator, listening to the gossip and insults fly, only marginally paying attention to the actual wedding.

He hoped his own girls had weddings as nice as this one. Maybe not with the crystals and nobles and complicated language, but with real love.

Because, underneath all of the long dresses and fancy clothes and archaic vows, he knew that Prince James was truly in love with his Princess. The baker could see it in his eyes.

_They are going to make a good ruling family, _he thought, as the speaking finally ended and the kissing finally began. _I can see it already._

* * *

><p>Princess Snow White II was quite happy.<p>

There was no particular reason for it, really. She _was _very happy for Prince James and his new bride (who had indeed fainted in his arms not long after the kiss, but was now awake and being swamped by congratulations), but she got the feeling that the wedding wasn't the source of the joy.

She was just... happy.

Her sister was off dancing with Prince Peter (oh, she was going to get teased _so much _for this on the ride home), and her parents were off doing whatever diplomatic things they did at events like these. She recognized other ruling families, too- Queen Cinderella was talking with King Cedric and his wife, the parents of the groom were enjoying a dance between all of the madness, while Princess Johanna sulked in a corner in the way that she seemed to be so good at doing. Everyone looked like they were enjoying the evening.

Maybe that's why she was so happy. Everyone else seemed to be happy, or on their way to happy.

She smiled as some duke of somewhere invited her to a dance. Yes, this was going to be a fine evening.

* * *

><p>Dahlia put another log on the fire, and sat back beside her new traveling partner.<p>

"We're getting to the northern edge of the forest," she said, staring at the orange flames.

"I know," Gerda said. For a while, all they could hear was the popping of the twigs and the wind in the trees.

"Hey, the forest is only so big," Dahlia said. "We'll just keep looking until we find him."

"What if we don't?"

"Hm?"

Gerda didn't elaborate, just wrapping her red cloak even tighter around herself.

"You're worried about not finding him?"

"Think about it, Dahlia... He could be on a ship right now headed to Terria or somewhere else across the ocean and I would never know. He could be living in some village and never recognize me. Or worse... I wouldn't recognize him." She sighed. "He could be dead. I could be leading us both on some wild goose chase and I'll be stuck wandering the forest for the rest of my life."

"Don't say that," Dahlia said. "C'mon, Little Red, you really think you're not going to find him?"

"You really think we are?"

"I _know _we are." The girl smiled widely. "I don't know much about you, but I do know that you're completely dedicated to finding this boy. You _are _going to find him. It would be impossible for you not to."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to. That's just how these things work." Dahlia smiled. "You know, some say that there's a red string that connects you to your soulmate. There's only so long you two can be apart before something tugs you back together. It's true love."

"I feel like the red string is strangling me. And," she added, blushing, "I'm _not_ in love with him."

"All right, then it's best friends, or whatever you call it at this stage," Dahlia said. "My point still stands. Though I'd bet money on you two getting hitched sometime in the next few years, just from the way you've been talking about him."

Gerda sputtered indignantly at the accusation, turning red and hiding her face in her cloak. Dahlia just laughed at the reaction.

"So," Dahlia said once they'd both calmed down again, "once we hit the northern edge of the forest, we ask local villages and probably head eastward. Somebody's bound to have seen him."

Gerda nodded. Exhaustion washed over her. She had been walking for days, and she had learned how to build fires and shelter. On top of this was her constant worry for Kai...

She found herself leaning on Dahlia's shoulder.

The robber girl smiled and gave her newfound friend a sideways glance. "Get some sleep, Little Red. We'll set out again at sunrise."

This was one of those rare moments, one of those fleeting instants, when everyone in all four kingdoms was... _happy._

* * *

><p><strong>Ending AN: <strong>The "Red String" comes from Japanese mythology, if I'm not mistaken. "Strangled by the red string" comes from TvTropes, if you were curious. Since I promised in the beginning to put tales from "all cultures" in, and wound up taking them _only _from Western Europe, I felt like a little borrowing was in order.


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